Nereida's Chronicle
by Incio
Summary: Two strange girls, a street rat, a horse, a bird, and a kender. They will change Dragonlance history in their own special way... from before the beginning to long after the end.
1. Prologue: A BlackWinged Visitor

_Author's Note:_

_The Dragonlance Chronicles have always been my favorite books. I first bought them when they came out as six chronicles instead of as a trilogy, which allowed me to become a Dragonlance "historian" in a sense. I love Tasslehoff Burrfoot - I'm a sucker for the funny people. Thus, I created this story... and though it may not seem like your traditional Tas fanfiction, my creative side (which is a bit too large for my own good) went absolutely nuts. Please review, since this is my first "published" story! Have fun reading about my crazy characters _:)

Prologue:

A Black-Winged Visitor

Tales are spun  
In a million ways  
Who tells the truth...?  
None can say.

Solace was, and would continue to be, one of the most peaceful cities on the continent of Ansalon. Life was led in a contented way. The men worked to put food on the table, the women did their part by raising children and running their households, and the children went to school – though they never felt like it. Often, if one were to stick their head in a home, they would see young boys chucking things at their mothers; and the mothers were often as merciless as their assailants.

But, all in all, when all was said and done, Solace was peaceful. People kept to themselves – even the bars were relatively innocent compared to others.

Perhaps this was why the existence of the bird caused so much disturbance.

True, it wasn't a normal bird. Normal birds don't sit in the same branch every second of the day. Normal birds make sounds. Normal birds don't make you feel as if something horrible is about to happen, and you can't do anything about it. To the people of Solace, the bird was an omen of doom – a depressing thing to speak of, look at, or even think of.

It wouldn't have been a problem, though. The large black creature simply sat in one of the older trees in Solace and occasionally ruffled its wings. No one ever saw it go to look for food. In fact, it appeared as if it didn't move at all. It just sat there; blinking steadily with onyx-like eyes and waiting.

That's what they decided it was doing: waiting. It had to be. What else would cause an animal to sit and not do anything, unless it was ill? Nobody thought it was ill. The bird appeared healthy. Its wings had shine and it didn't appear to lose weight because of starvation.

So, how was it that the bird caused trouble?

It began with the sickness. No one knew where it came from, but it swept through the city, taking hundreds of lives as it went. Even the most respected healers didn't have a clue how to stop it. At last, they gave up and told the citizens that it would "run its course."

But it didn't run its course just once. The illness, which the people of Solace named "Fever of the Watery Eyes" brought, as the name suggested, watery eyes and a high fever. This was usually followed by sweating and lack of memory, and then, before anyone could figure out what was happening to the person, they were dead.

People began to blame the arrival of the illness on the bird. And who could blame them? It appeared sinister, and who knew what kind of black magic it could be working over Solace?

Gossip flew through Solace nearly as fast as the sickness had. Crazy rumors about the bird being a devil popped up everywhere, and pretty soon no one knew what the truth was and what wasn't. This much seemed evident – the bird was to blame for the sickness.

The weather grew steadily worse as well. Though this was a much smaller problem in comparison to the sickness, it was another thing that fueled the citizens of Solace's hatred of the bird. No one spoke of the creature without a feeling of abhorrence in their voice.

That night in particular held unappealing weather. The skies were a deep, dark purple color and looked fit to burst with rain. Occasionally an ominous rumble of thunder would shake Solace. Women were constantly sticking their heads out of their windows and calling to their children to come in before they got struck down by lightning. Worry built up steadily in the city as the evening went on. No one slept – no one could! The feelings of tension were so sharp and painful that many citizens simply sat in their kitchens and ate, hoping the food might calm their knotted stomachs.

Chilling feelings,  
Empty souls,  
Whispering winds,  
A story untold

The bird had, like the previous nights, not moved at all except for the occasional flutter of wings. But, that night, it lifted its head unusually high and opened its beak, calling out to the rumbling skies.

Far below the tree where the bird sat, sending out its haunting message, a hooded figure sat on the back of a pale horse. It smiled beneath its hood.

"Fear not, Himalak," she said. "I am here."

The bird lowered its head. Slowly, barely making a sound, it flew off of its branch for the first time in two weeks and landed on the girl's waiting arm.


	2. Chapter One: Nader

Chapter One:  
Nader

The raven and the horse  
The girl and the dream  
It is how you chose to say it  
One thing remains unseen

It was not anyone's business who the strange girl was.

But, of course, in Solace everyone must know everything, and that included finding out who she was and what she was doing in the city with her conspicuous bird and a horse that followed her around everywhere she went.

The first few weeks that she stayed in Solace, no one could figure out even the smallest bits of information – just that she wore a large black cloak and had a pair of scaly boots. They were unusual boots; shiny ones that were colored dark green. All of the children said they were dragonskin boots, but nobody ever listened. The girl was strange, but not **that** strange.

Somehow, whenever the girl was around, the atmosphere changed. Even at the happiest of times, people quieted as she passed. It wasn't just the black cloak or the boots, either. There is something about seeing someone with a bird on their shoulder and a scarred horse walking behind them that sends out a mysterious aura to all standing near.

The horse was different than the ones that the rich people rode. It was, first of all, a mare – most rich people rode stallions or geldings and left the mares behind. Not only that, but she was scrawny. Her ribs looked as if they would poke right through her coat. The hair on the coat was polished gray, but it was speckled with dark flecks, making her appear somehow smaller and less important than if she had been a polished gray.

Eventually, the gossips grew impatient of hearing the same things over and over again and began to investigate. More things were discovered – simple things, but things that the people of Solace pondered over for weeks.

Her name was Nereida. No one had ever heard anything like it. It wasn't pronounced Neerida, or Nerehida, or Nereeda. It was pronounced Ner-i-ee-dah. Or, at least, that was what the gossips heard. At first, the Solacians weren't sure who was finding these tidbits about the strange girl, but it didn't take long before the culprit was caught.

Money cannot bring  
The happiness inside  
The tax collectors can't take away  
My smile that spreads so wide

Nador was the first one to ever get close enough to the girl to talk to her. He was a curious street rat, and it didn't matter to him that people were getting sick and that it was supposedly the bird's fault. None of it mattered. In Nador's opinion, if he got sick, he got sick, and it wasn't anyone's fault except for perhaps his own.

Without this kind of so-called "bravery" no one would've found out anything about Nereida. Of course, Nador himself thought nothing of it. He thought Nereida was interesting. This was mostly due to the fact that Nador loved animals, and to think that someone had two animal companions made Nereida the most special person he knew.

He had met her purely by accident. As usual, he was being chased by someone for some sort of theft, when he ran into her. Literally.

"Shanya, you must have patience."

Nereida had talked to her horse for as long as she had owned her. She had picked her up at an auction. The traumatized mare ran around in her pen for almost two days straight before she collapsed of exhaustion. Inspired by her determination, Nereida snuck her out of Sanction and half-dragged half-rode her around Ansalon.

It was true, Nereida's travels had taken her around a lot of places that the average person would never even think of going. For a girl of fifteen, she had been to more shady bars than most men three times her age. Yet she'd also seen the city of Qualinesti at its finest and Huma's Tomb in the fall as the leaves cascaded down around its marble surface.

For Shanya's part, she was used to being addressed by her master. She was accustomed to having a large black bird sit on her withers and peck the parasites off of her skin, and anything else that he found to his liking. Himalak and Shanya got along just fine, and this suited Nereida perfectly, as she loved both her animals.

When Shanya and Nereida had conversations, there was usually not much response from Shanya's end that a normal human could understand. And though Nereida couldn't explain how she understood Shanya, she knew that the mare was intelligent enough to figure out her tone of voice and replied accordingly.

To her statement, Shanya snorted.

"If you don't," Nereida continued, "You will find yourself miserable. It isn't my fault that I can't find anything to eat in this goddamned city."

Again, Shanya snorted, this time throwing her head high and shaking her mane.

"Oh, stop it," said Nereida with a smile. "I know you're an impressive animal. Now leave me alone. I must have time to think."

Shanya chose to ignore this comment. The mare began digging her hooves deep into the soft earth and sent some spraying into Himalak's eyes. He let out a squawk of displeasure and shook himself, his black wings sending more dirt flying onto Nereida's black cloak.

The young woman narrowed her eyes at her raven and dusted the dirt off of her cloak with a bejeweled hand. "If x equals 453," she said, "And x equals the diameter of a circle... hmm... and if j equals the radius of the circle, what is the area of the circle?"

Digging in her bag, Nereida found a sheet of parchment and her quill pen, then began writing frantically on the paper.

_**X 453**_

_**J 226.5**_

**_A 3.14(226.5)²_**

_**If X equals 453, then the radius must be half of the diameter, which is equal to X. Therefore, J equals 226.5, which his half of 453. In order to find the area of the circle, you would need to multiply pi (3.14) by the radius squared.**_

_**L/3 X**_

_**X 29**_

_**L 87**_

_**This is a simple problem. If X is 29, then you must multiply 29 by 3 in order to find what L equals, because the original problem is L/3 which equals 29. Take the three and multiply it by 29 in order to receive the number for L.**_

_**M(7.5)³ K**_

**_K/8 _**

At the end of the alleyway, Nereida heard a loud thump and a yelp. Getting to her feet, she strolled down the dirt road, searching for the cause of the sound.

Her eyes fell upon a small boy struggling in vain to escape from the metal cuffs that held him to the wall of Theros Ironfield's shop. Narrowing her eyes, she shoved the parchment beneath her cloak and walked over to where the boy lay, panting furiously.

"Excuse me, good sir," said Nereida solemnly. "Could you tell me why you are causing this disturbance?"

The boy looked up. He was incredibly scrawny – his ribs were visibly poking through his ratty gray shirt and his face was hollow, his eyes sunken deep into his white face. The eyes themselves were a strange shade of blue. They were almost purple, and they burned even brighter in the shadowy alley.

"What's a disturbance?" he asked in a raspy voice.

"You're one," said Nereida skeptically, kneeling beside the boy and inspecting the chains that held him captive with extreme interest. "Fascinating," she murmured. "I haven't seen metal like this since I was in Silvanesti. Those elves have no idea how to keep someone chained to anything properly." She snorted. "I broke out six times," she said, getting to her feet again.

"You can get me out?" squealed the boy.

Nereida nodded matter-of-factly. "Of course," she said, leaning against the side of the blacksmith's shop. "I could probably break you out of anything. Metal, my dear, is a very simple to deal with. It has no mind, therefore it cannot oppose you. You must simply..."

"Get... me... out... of... here..." wheezed the boy.

Nereida smiled confidently. "What can you offer me in return for my services?" she asked.

The boy considered this, lifting a metal-bound hand and scratching his head. "Dunno," he said. "I mean... I don't do a lot around here, so..."

Nereida yawned.

"Uh..." said the boy, "Uh... I can... I can give you a home."

"What?" said Nereida dully, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand.

"I can give you a home," said the boy. "It's not precisely the fanciest of places, but..."

Before the boy could finish, Nereida had knelt beside him and, with a quick jerk of her hand, the metal snapped beneath her fingers. "Get up," she said. "I may have use for you after all. Do you have a name?"

"Yes," said the boy in a shaken voice as Nereida dragged him to his feet. "Nader."

"That's not a name," said Nereida, dusting the boy off furiously.

"Yes it is," said Nader stoutly.

Slowly, Nereida drew her hands away from the boy called Nader's back. "Fine," she said. "Nader it is. Now, if you will just show me to this home of yours, that will make me a very happy person indeed."

Together, the two set off along the road, Shanya and Himalak at their heels.


End file.
